


How Bucky Stole the Avengers' Hearts

by mistermistyeyed



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Avenger Bucky Barnes, Avengers Family, BAMF Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Gen, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Avengers, Protective Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistermistyeyed/pseuds/mistermistyeyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sam had never seen Steve Rogers truly happy, and he hadn't even realized it. Sure, since he had known him, Sam had seen Steve smile and laugh, but it wasn't until a few months after Bucky had finally let them catch up with him that Sam witnessed pure, unencumbered joy spread across the other man's face."</p><p>Or the one where Bucky slowly wins over the Avengers, and they manage to win him over too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Bucky Stole the Avengers' Hearts

Sam had never seen Steve Rogers truly happy, and he hadn't even realized it. Sure, since he had known him, Sam had seen Steve smile and laugh, but it wasn't until a few months after Bucky had finally let them catch up with him that Sam witnessed pure, unencumbered joy spread across the other man's face.

The three had been sitting in traffic, Sam driving, Steve riding shotgun, and Bucky in the backseat. Sam had only heard the guy speak a handful of words in the four months Bucky had been living on Steve's floor in Avengers Tower, but that was better than the other Avengers had gotten. If it wasn't for Jarvis confirming it, the others wouldn't have even believed Bucky was there. None of them had seen him; Sam figured that seventy years of being a Russian assassin had made that a pretty easy feat. The one who had gotten the closest was Nat, and most of the others didn't believe her when she claimed she had seen him slipping out of one of the communal floors late one night.

The three were driving back from Sam and Steve's meeting with Fury in DC. Bucky didn't attend the meeting, just waited outside the conference room, but if the scathing glare he gave Fury was anything to go by, Sam guessed he didn't trust the guy one bit and wanted to keep an eye on him where Steve was concerned. They had been sitting on the same stretch of highway for about two hours, barely crawling ten feet in that time. Something about a flipped truck, it's cargo strewn across the road and making it impassable. All Sam knew was that he was about five seconds away from slamming his head against the steering wheel. The last time anyone had said anything was about an hour ago, when Sam had told them the cause of the traffic, courtesy of a news site on his iPhone. This was the longest time he had ever spent with Bucky, and honestly, it was pretty nerve-wracking.

When they had finally dragged Bucky out of some nameless town in Asia, Sam had spent the whole flight home piloting the plane while Steve and Bucky were in the back somewhere doing God-knows-what. Since then, he had only caught glimpses of him, Bucky occasionally walking silently into the kitchen to grab something while Sam was in the living room with Steve and almost giving him a heart attack. He was secretly thrilled that Bucky trusted him enough to venture out when he was there and tried not to brag to the other Avengers (although he totally did, mostly to make Clint jealous).

The car ride down to DC had been tense, but not nearly as bad since Sam could focus on driving. Now, stuck in traffic with nothing to distract him and occasionally sneaking glances at Bucky in the rear view mirror, Sam was at a loss. He was about to say something, not even sure what that something was, but desperate to break the silence, when he heard a sharp huff from the backseat.

"Goddamn Howard," Bucky muttered. "Promised us flying cars by the 50's." His voice was quiet and rough from disuse, but it still dripped with sarcasm.

Steve smiled, eyes bright and face shining in a way that Sam had never seen. "You remember that?" Steve asked, voice not hiding how elated he was.

Bucky looked unsure under Steve's hopeful scrutiny, but he didn't close himself off like Sam had expected. Instead, Bucky avoided Steve's gaze and snorted derisively. "Yeah. I also remember his flying car blowing up in his smug face in front of the whole World's Fair."

Steve laughed, but not as he usually did. His half-hearted chuckles were nothing compared to this. It was a booming sound, with his head thrown back and face crinkled in joy. Sam had never seen Steve look so happy, like the world suddenly made sense. Sam glanced at Bucky, who seemed just as shocked as Sam himself was. Then, he got that distant look in his eye, the one Sam had come to associate with a returning memory. Whatever the memory was, Bucky smiled, unaware Sam was even looking at him. The smile was small, but so genuine and fragile that Sam felt like he was intruding by even looking at it.

He turned back to the road and let the melodic sound of Steve's laughter wash over him, a smile of his own spreading across his face. He may not know Bucky, but in that moment, he decided that anyone who could make Steve look like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders was alright in his book.

* * *

 

The first time Bucky ventured into a room with the rest of the Avengers in it, everyone froze and stopped talking. Bucky didn't spare them a glance, simply walking up to where Steve was seated on the couch next to Clint. He tossed a book at him, which Steve caught easily.

"Your taste in books is off the cob, Rogers," he teased in a slight Brooklyn accent. Sam was pretty sure that Bucky hadn't even noticed he'd been slowly gaining the accent for months. He turned and went over to the fridge, grabbing a water with his metal hand.

"Hey!" Steve protested. "The Princess Bride is a classic!"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Pretty sure the word you're looking for is 'predictable', 'played-out', 'lame', or all of the above." He walked over to the elevator, slipping away as suddenly as he had appeared.

Steve threw his head back and laughed whole-heartedly. The room shared shocked looks at the sheer happiness of the sound. Sam had to remind himself that they had never witnessed what he had come to dub the 'Bucky Effect'. It had almost been a year since the initial car situation, and since then, Sam had seen the 'Bucky Effect' countless times.

Since that day, it seemed Bucky had made it his personal mission to make Steve as happy as possible, and Sam counted himself lucky to be able to witness it. Bucky had gradually started sitting in the living room with them when Sam came over, and after a month or two, he eventually worked up the courage to make fun of the movies they watched and gently rib Sam about his love for pop music. When his comments were met with laughter rather than punishment, he began to open up a bit more. He still shut down whenever something remotely related to the Winter Soldier inadvertently came up and avoided Sam for days if he even mentioned the benefits of therapy for PTSD, but barring that, Sam caught more and more glimpses of the real James Buchanan Barnes.

"I'm sorry, what the hell was that?" Tony asked, breaking the stunned silence that had taken over the room.

"That was Bucky," Steve said, a slight smirk on his face as he looked around at everyone's flabbergasted expressions.

"So he skirts around us for a year and a half, which I don't know how that's even possible with all of us living in the same building, but that's a whole other conversation, and then he just shows up to make fun of the book you loaned him and leave?" Stark said, arms gesturing wildly at where Bucky had stood minutes ago.

Steve shrugged. "He likes to mess with people."

Stark shook his head slowly. "He likes to mess with people. The Winter Soldier likes to mess with people."

"Hey!" Sam said sharply, and everyone's head snapped towards him. "He is not the Winter Soldier. He's Sergeant James Barnes, war hero and Steve's best friend." Steve gave him a small, grateful smile, and Tony actually looked slightly embarrassed, which Sam considered a pretty huge accomplishment.

Clint cleared his throat, breaking the room's tense atmosphere. "Hey, he's right about The Princess Bride. It _is_ pretty predictable."

Steve gave him an affronted look. "I obviously have the worst taste in friends."

That night, after the Avengers had all dispersed and Sam and Steve went back down to Steve's floor, the three of them turned off the lights and put on The Princess Bride. Sam sat curled up in the arm chair, wrapped up in one of their incredibly soft blankets. Steve was spread out across the length of the couch, and Bucky sat on the floor in front of him. Bucky dug into the movie ruthlessly and Steve made half-hearted attempts to defend it while absently playing with his friend's hair. Sam pretended not to notice, since he was pretty sure the two of them genuinely _didn't_ notice.

It was a struggle to keep his eyes open, but Sam couldn't bring himself to leave. There was something about hanging out with Bucky and Steve, the way they clicked like puzzle pieces, that made it seem like everything in the universe was aligned. Sam wanted to bask in it as long as possible. And that was something he would _never_ admit out loud. The movie eventually ended though, and Sam reluctantly sat up and stretched. Steve got up too, ruffling Bucky's hair before his friend could swat his hand away, and went down the hall to the bathroom.

The room was only illuminated by the movie's credits scrolling down the screen. Sam looked over to Bucky, about to make a jibe about Dread Pirate Roberts, when he was surprised to find a serious expression on Bucky's face. It was the same expression he had worn in the months immediately after they had found him, and it had been appearing less and less until Sam couldn't remember the last time he had seen it. He didn't miss it in the slightest.

Bucky glanced down the hallway, making sure Steve wasn't coming. "Sam, I wanted to say thanks." Sam opened his mouth to protest, to say that wasn't necessary, but Bucky raised a hand to stop him. "Just, hear me out. I know you were ready to kill me on my, uh... last mission." Bucky cleared his throat, and Sam winced in guilt. "Thank you for that. Steve, the self-sacrificing idiot, would have let me kill him, and I can't even imagine... Well, uh, thanks. For putting that reckless twit in his place when I wasn't able to." With that, Bucky got up and slipped down the hall to his room, not giving him a chance to respond.

Sam sighed. It looked like he had two self-sacrificing idiots on his hands, but he still couldn't bring himself to regret his life choices.

* * *

 

Barnes had been hanging around the Avenger's more and more often, though really only talking to Sam and Steve. He still avoided missions like the plague. Clint wasn't sure if it was because it reminded him of the less Avenger-y, more brainwash-y missions, or if he got worried at the thought of Steve going out without him watching his back, but Bucky always disappeared an hour or two before they rolled out and he avoided their debriefing meetings.

That's why it was so shocking when Clint glanced over to see Barnes walking into the conference room, brow furrowed in confusion. He figured Barnes must've come up to see what was taking so long, considering they had been an hour longer than usual due to some assholes who set off a bomb too close to him. He was relatively unharmed, just a little sore, but the sound of the blast had busted his hearing aides, and they were all bumbling around to see what they could do. Natasha and Sam were searching the tower, looking for spares that Clint had carelessly left somewhere, while Stark was down in his lab building a new pair as fast as possible without sacrificing quality. Steve had stayed in the conference room with him, trying to cheer him up with what Clint assumed were funny stories, but the archer didn't have the heart to tell the guy that the way he was over enunciating his words made it _harder_ to read his lips.

Clint felt bad that he didn't greet Barnes, but he saw Steve turn to him and assumed he was filling him in on the situation. After a few moments, Barnes nodded before grabbing a chair and pulling it up, facing Clint. The archer was confused, considering Barnes had never done more than nod in greeting towards him. He had assumed that he hated him.

" **Hello** ," Barnes signed.

Clint's eyes widened, and he glanced over at Steve who seemed just as shocked. " **You know sign language**?" Clint signed back excitedly, a redundant question considering that Barnes obviously did, but he was too excited to care. He had felt so cut off, and it felt good to be able to talk.

" **Yeah. We haven't really talked before, and if my ma could see me she'd kill me for my manners, so I guess I'll officially introduce myself. I'm Bucky**."

" **Clint** ," he signed back with a smile. " **Where'd you learn sign language**?"

Barnes's face closed off slightly and he hesitated before steeling himself. " **I don't actually remember learning it. It must've been part of my** ," he paused. " **Training**."

Clint winced, not intending to open that particular can of worms. " **Oh. I'm sorry. Maybe our first conversation should be about some happier topics. Unless you wanted to talk about it.** " Clint's hands were moving at lightening speed as he panicked. " **Not that we have to avoid it if you don't want to. Shit, I suck at this**."

Barnes laughed, actually laughed, and Clint figured he must be dreaming if he actually managed to make Steve's notorious ex-brainwashed assassin laugh. " **Somehow you made this horribly awkward situation even more awkward. Congratulations, that's a talent**."

And now Barnes was making fun of him. Great, he looked like an idiot in front of one of America's most famous icons, Captain America's right hand man. His tenth grade history teacher would probably slap him. " **So I've been told** ," he signed with a small smirk.

Barnes looked around the room, some of the tension he had carried with him draining. He let out a long breath. " **Okay, as long as Steve can't hear us, we might as well have some fun** ," he signed, a slightly devilish smile spreading across his face. " **Tell me your best embarrassing Steve story, and I bet I'll have a better one**."

Clint grinned back. " **Oh, you are so on**."

Barnes glanced over at Steve, and Clint followed his gaze, managing to make out the words 'bad influence' and 'I know that look, Buck'. Barnes rolled his eyes, ignoring Steve and looking back to Clint. " **Alright, you first** ," he signed, a challenge in his eye.

An hour and a half later, when Tony strutted in with a triumphant look on his face holding brand new hearing aides, Clint had forgotten about the oppressive silence, instead breaking down into laughter with Bucky. " **He really punched you in the face when scared him with a mask**?"

Bucky nodded, smiling. " **It's not funny. He clocked me right in the nose. I bled all over my Halloween costume**."

That's when Clint decided that this guy needed to become his new sniper buddy and be recited to the Avengers ASAP.

* * *

 

Sam was quickly learning that he should never play poker with an ex-spy. Bucky gave him an innocent, clueless expression, but Sam could've sworn he was being played. He tried to remember if any of the textbooks mentioned Barnes and Rogers being hustlers, but Steve's smothered smirk whenever Bucky showed a winning hand was as good an indicator as any.

Sam had just lost again, Bucky eliciting a loud bark of laughter from Steve when he asked if a royal flush was a good thing, when Tony stormed onto the floor. He stalked over to the fridge, snatching a water bottle while muttering to himself.

"What's got your tool belt in a bunch?" Clint called from the floor, where he was trying to catch Bucky slipping cards out of his shirt sleeves.

Tony slammed his water bottle on the table. "I just got this new experimental WWII tech that my dad made, since the museum finally stopped insisting on keeping the junk to gather dust, but I can't figure out the damn secret code he put into all of them! It's driving me insane!"

Clint furrowed his brow. "He didn't write the it down or anything?"

Stark shook his head furiously. "Nope. The pompous bastard didn't trust anyone with that information. No one's figured out shit about their inner workings because of that, and I _assumed_ I'd be able to, but apparently even the world's smartest man, meaning me, can't figure it out. I'm about five seconds away from smashing the things. To hell with studying them, my tech is a million times better anyway!"

"31213," Bucky said quietly, not even glancing up from his cards.

The room dropped into silence, and Bucky looked up to find everyone staring at him. "What?" he asked defensively. "That's the code. 31213."

Tony gave Bucky a hard look, which the ex-assassin returned with the same intensity, before he spun on his heel and went back to the elevator. The room was blanketed in an awkward silence for a few minutes, until Tony came storming back in.

"Okay, tall, dark, and brainwashed, how the hell did you know that? Did my dad tell _you_ the secret code when he didn't trust me with jack shit?"

Bucky's eyes narrowed. "During the war, Howard would always give Steve these half done weapons and _insist_ they were field ready even if they looked like they were barely being held together. I didn't trust it one bit, and I ain't some tech genius, so at night I would sneak into his lab and look at his weapon designs before he burned 'em, so that I'd know how to deal with the damn gadgets if they malfunctioned. Which they did a helluva lot, the idiot. Anyway, the secret code was always written in the corner."

The room was silent and Steve gave Bucky a surprised look, obviously unaware of his friend's late night escapades. Sam figured he shouldn't be _that_ surprised, since Bucky had a protective streak a mile long, but Steve was pretty oblivious. Bucky looked surprised at his own confession, and hunched in on himself slightly, avoiding the room's gaze.

Tony broke the tense silence with a booming laugh. It was his turn to get a round of surprised looks. "Oh my God, _that's_ why he never talked about you! You hated him! This has to be the best thing I've ever heard. He never told me the 'Captain America's best friend thought I was an ass' story."

"You hated Howard?" Steve asked Bucky, confusion clear in his voice.

Bucky looked up and tilted his head. "I thought that was obvious."

"But you were always hanging around his lab!"

Bucky rolled his eyes, apprehension leaving the lines of his posture only to be replaced with slightly slumped exasperation. "Yeah, to a _nnoy_ him. What else was I supposed to do when you were in your officer meetings? The best part was, he couldn't tell Captain America's best friend to buzz off without getting on your bad side," he said, a teasing smirk creeping across his features.

Tony laughed again. "This, Bucksters, is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

* * *

 

They had been fucked before, but this time, they were _fucked._ Fury had told them this would be an easy mission, warranting only Cap, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Falcon, instead of the whole entire Avengers shebang. He said there would only be about a fifty Hydra agents, tops, but they quickly discovered there was about twice that number.

They had gotten through about half of the initial force, but the enemy forces just kept coming and had somehow managed to back them into a corner. Every bit of Sam's army training was screaming at him for allowing them to be pushed into such a precarious position, but he did his best to save the self-resentment for later. Sam, Steve, and Natasha were doing their best to ward off the seemingly endless wave of attackers, while Clint picked off as many Hydra agents as he could from his sniper nest. Still, they were getting tired and seemed horribly outmatched.

Sam punched yet another agent in the face and used his extended wings to smack a few others against the wall with a satisfying smack (it was just about the only thing the wings were useful for in such close quarters). He glanced over to see Steve throw his shield, slamming into three people's heads and dropping them to the floor before somehow returning to his hand. Natasha did a complicated move that Sam didn't even understand, but left the guy writhing in pain on the floor and caused the other agents to give her a wide berth in fear. A small smirk spread across her face, and she jumped back into the fray.

Suddenly, the surge of agents seemed to stem a little, and Sam shared a confused look with Steve and Nat, who also noticed the change.

After a few more minutes, they could hear the sound of terrified shouts coming from down the hall. The other agents in the room seemed to pick up on the spreading panic, the energy in the room becoming frantic. Some even tried to retreat, scrambling away in vain before Steve's shield was flung at their heads. A murmuring of panic could be heard, of which Sam could only make out, 'Зимний солдат'.

Eventually, Sam saw the object of their fear when Bucky entered the room, kicking ass and in full Winter Soldier garb that Sam hadn't even known he kept. He knocked out the last of the agents, kicking one hard in the chest while simultaneously jabbing the other in the temple with the butt of his knife.

"B-Bucky?" Steve called out. "What're you doing?"

Bucky turned, the same deadness in his eyes that had been there two and a half years ago, and Sam's breath hitched. The Winter Soldier turned fully towards them, and Sam tensed himself for a fight while a ball of dread grew in the pit of his stomach.

Instead of advancing on them, the Winter Soldier's eyes cleared, and Sam recognized the warmth that lit up Bucky's face whenever he managed to surprise Steve or play a trick on Clint. He clicked his mask off, revealing a small, crooked smile. "What does it look like? Saving your sorry asses."

Steve let out a slightly hysterical laugh and dropped his shield, walking over to Bucky and enveloping him in a tight hug. "Geez, Buck, you tryin' to give a fella a heart attack?"

Bucky laughed shortly, returning the hug. "Sorry, Stevie," he muttered quietly.

"Okay, sorry to break up this adorable moment," Natasha interrupted, sounding anything but sorry, "What the hell was that? How'd you know we'd need backup?" Her face didn't give anything away, but Sam knew she'd been blindsided, and Natasha didn't _do_ blindsided.

Bucky just gave her a look instead of answering, and she studied him closely before smirking. "Oh, _I_ see, you've been following us on missions since you showed up. And _this_ time you couldn't get a clear sniper shot, since we were cornered in this room and Clint had the only good vantage point."

And suddenly things made sense. That explained why missions had seemed easier since Bucky had shown up (Sam had assumed it was a byproduct of his increased workout schedule. Oh well.) It also made Bucky's mysterious disappearances before missions a whole lot less mysterious.

Bucky tilted his head. "I honestly thought you guys knew and just didn't mention it. I mean, I've had Steve's back in whatever dumbass situation he got himself into since the 30's, you thought I'd stop now?"

Natasha quirked an eyebrow. "What, you don't trust _us_ to watch his back?"

Bucky smirked. "I live by a policy of trust, but verify."

Clint burst into the room, robbing Nat of her chance to respond. Bucky's answer, though, caused an almost invisible smile to cross her face, so slight that Sam almost missed it. At that moment, Sam knew that Bucky had gained her respect.

"That was so cool!" Clint gushed. "Did you see Hydra's faces? They were all, 'Shit, man, rouge assassin has come to save the day'. Really, man, you've been holding out on us. I'm honestly offended, but that one flip trick thingy you did on the way in totally cancels it out. But this means you're finally joining the Avengers now, right? 'Cause it gets lonely up in the sniper's nest, and I could use a buddy."

"You've been watching him since he came in and didn't bother to say anything over the comms?" Sam interjected.

Clint shrugged. "What can I say, I was mesmerized. Plus, your faces when he entered the room? _Priceless._ It was poetic. In hindsight, I should have filmed it, but oh well. Anyway, more important business, what's gonna be your superhero name? Please don't make it bird related. We already have two of those and I really don't want to get a theme going."

Bucky had been watching Clint ramble with an amused smile on his face. He shrugged at the question with obviously forced nonchalance. "The Winter Soldier."

Steve gave him a bewildered look. "The Winter Soldier? Why?"

"They created the Winter Soldier, it's only fitting that the Winter Soldier destroys them," Bucky answered, avoiding his gaze.

"Now _that's_ poetic," Clint said, with none of the humor he had meant to inject.

A wicked smile spread across Bucky's face. "Plus, did you see how terrified those bastards were when I showed up?"

Sam saw Natasha smile again out of the corner of his eye. At _that_ moment, Sam knew Bucky had gained her loyalty.

* * *

 

Since then, Bucky had started officially going on missions with them, and it was a lot easier than having him skirt around them like a ghost. He would stay up with Clint in the sniper's nest or fight down on the ground with the rest of them, depending on the mission. Sometimes Steve was able to pretend that it was just like the old days, and that him and Bucky were just going on a raid with the Commandos.

After many smaller raids on miniscule Hydra cells, Fury had managed to get intel on the location of a major base, and his sources told him that the site was supposed to serve as the evil agency's new headquarters. So, the next day, Steve, Bucky, Clint, Nat, and Tony had shipped out to a remote (and classified) town to stop the seed before solid roots could grow.

They were prepared, and their intel was good, so the operation moved relatively smoothly. No surprise reinforcements or unexpected technology. Steve actually found himself enjoying the opportunity to blow off some steam. Ever since he had discovered what Hydra had done to Bucky, punching their operatives had become even more fulfilling.

Steve couldn't see the rest of the team, but he could hear their occasional status reports over his earpiece. Things were winding down, and Steve only had about three more agents to take down when he heard a message over the radio that made his blood run cold.

" _I, uh, could use a little help on the west side,"_ Bucky's voice crackled in his ear, tone strained. Steve made quick work of the remaining agents around him with a renewed energy that he hadn't known he could achieve, even with the serum. All that he could think was _Bucky is in trouble._ The moment Bucky had fallen of the train all of those years ago was still his most prominent nightmare, and he lost count of how many nights he had woken up with Bucky's scream echoing in his head. _Bucky is in trouble and I can't fail him again._

Steve sprinted through the town, surprised by the lack of agents dispersed about the buildings. Usually in situations like this, some agents would isolate themselves from the main fighting force and try for a surprise attack when the other side thought they had won and let their guard down. It was a tactic that Steve himself had used, and knew for a fact Hydra used, but there was no one in sight.

As he approached the west side, he found out why. It seemed the remaining agents had decided to gang up on Bucky, most with bitter sneers on their faces. There was a group of about thirty surrounding him, apparently hearing about their 'pet' defecting to the Avengers and each wanting a personal revenge. Normally, Steve would step back and watch Bucky wipe the floor with them with a smile on his face like the world's most twisted proud parent, but not this time.

From down the street, Steve could already see the problem. Bucky's metal arm was simply dangling there lifelessly, forcing him to only use his right arm. While, metal arm or not, Bucky still had the serum, the dead weight was obviously problematic. It was throwing Bucky's kicks off balance, and whenever he spun around it would whip with him and slam into his chest, sending him teetering slightly. Steve had never actually asked how heavy it was, but considering its strength, he figured it had to be anything but light.

Steve watched Bucky dive behind a car, unable to use his metal arm to deflect bullets, and the super soldier pushed his legs faster. Still, he was too far away, and his heart stopped when he saw a Hydra agent pull out a grenade launcher and aim it at the car Bucky was using as cover. Bucky was busy struggling to reload with one hand, unaware of his precarious position.

"BUCKY," the desperate warning tore from Steve's throat, panic filling his mind and his world narrowing to the mantra _I can't lose him, not again._ He was running faster than he ever had before, but it was useless, he'd never get there in time. Steve would watch his best friend's death for a second time, because he was too late, too far, not fast enough.

Steve glanced at the Hydra agent, saw their finger begin to squeeze the trigger on the launcher, and _oh God,_ this moment was going to be imprinted in his mind for the rest of his life, just like how he could still clearly hear the squealing of the train on the tracks and the horrible groan of metal as the bar Bucky held on to detached from the freight car.

Suddenly, an arrow went through the agent's shoulder, causing him to drop the grenade launcher, which skid across the pavement. Another agent scrambled to pick it up, but they were met with a blast to the chest, courtesy of Iron Man. Tony landed next to Bucky behind the car, and Bucky gave him a surprised look before finally managing to shove a new clip in his pistol.

He was hardly needed, though, as Tony began to provide their spot with cover fire. Natasha had appeared from nowhere, scooping up the forgotten grenade launcher and firing it at the mob of Hydra agents. The rest were taken down quickly with a hail of arrows, and Steve could see where Clint was hanging upside down with one of his grappling arrows on the side of a building.

By the time Steve finally reached the scene, only about a minute after he had first spotted Bucky, all thirty of the agents had been taken care of and the street was eerily silent, save for the crackling of fire caused by the grenade launcher. He glanced at Natasha and Clint, confirming that they were unharmed, before quickly walking over to where Tony and Bucky were.

Bucky's face was tense, and he would flinch about every ten seconds. Tony was already opening the control panel on the side of his metal arm, moving slowly and carefully, watching Bucky's face for any sign that he wanted him to get away. His mask was off, and so were his gloves, allowing him to locate the little hatch and open it carefully. "Do you know exactly what they did to it?"

"Electrocuted it. Bastards sure spent a long enough time making sure _that_ method was pretty damn effective. Took them months to figure out the _perfect_ voltage to work out that weakness," Bucky gritted out with a bitter laugh.

Steve was speechless, but Tony just continued on as if that wasn't the saddest thing he'd ever heard. "Well, once I'm done with it, this arm will have _no_ weaknesses. You just gotta tell me all of the fail-safes Hydra put in it, 'cause I'm a genius, not psychic. We'll make it a million times better than those Hydra fucks could even imagine, 'cause no one knows tech like Tony Stark knows tech. That's a proven fact, Google it. I won't even make the arm Iron Man colors, 'cause I'm just that great a guy. To make it Cap colored though, that'll cost you approximately twenty dollars and about half of the respect I have for you."

"What about Falcon colored?" Bucky asked with an amused smirk, before flinching again.

Tony hummed, considering it, as he continued to poke around inside the arm. "Concentrate and ask again." Bucky just gave him a confused look. Tony sighed. "Y'know, like, from the Magic Eight Ball answers? 'It is decidedly so'? All that jazz?" When Bucky just looked even more confused, Tony shook his head. "Wow, you deprived elderly super soldiers, I am buying you a Magic Eight Ball. Anyway, your limited knowledge of classic Mattel toys is beside the point. Is it okay if I re-circuit some of these wires so the arm stops zapping you?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "No, I just _love_ being electrocuted." His sarcasm was kind of ruined when he flinched in the middle of the sentence. " _Shit,_ " he hissed.

Tony wasted no time in moving some of the wires around, watching Bucky's face closely to see if it had worked. After a full twenty seconds without a zap, Bucky's face relaxed, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Tony, you are my favorite Stark to ever walk this Earth."

Tony snorted, though he was obviously also relieved that his actions had stopped the shocks. "I would be flattered if you weren't the Vice President of the Howard Stark Hate Club. Not much competition there from dear ole dad. Anyway, don't thank me yet, I can't get the arm actually _working_ again until we're in my lab with some real equipment."

Tony glanced over and saw Steve, and he must of been giving Stark some kind of sappy look, because the guy immediately clammed up and put back on the Asshole Act (Barton had thought up the name and even tried to trademark it, but failed). He cleared his throat. "It's about time you let me look at the damn thing, Comrade Terminator. I've been waiting three years, you prude."

Bucky followed Tony's line of sight, also recognizing the Asshole Act and searching for its source. When they locked eyes, Steve tried to keep the mosaic of emotions he had felt in the past five minutes off of his face, but he had never been able to fool Bucky. Bucky's face softened, and he stood from his crouching position. "What're you waitin' for, get over here, you punk," he said, holding his arms (arm) open.

Steve didn't even hesitate before walking over and letting Buck's real arm envelop him in a tight hug, which he returned with just was much strength. "Does this look like the end of the line, huh? 'Cause you can't get rid of me that easily. I just keep comin' back," Bucky whispered next to his ear.

"Like a goddamn rash, Buck," Steve whispered back, a joke that they had made at least once a week, ever since they heard Jimmy Keller say it in the schoolyard after class. The Howlies had teased them mercilessly about its overuse, and that just made them use it more.

Bucky pulled back with a laugh, slapping him on the shoulder. "Damn straight."

Tony scoffed, pausing the fake puking motions he had been making throughout the exchange. "Straight? Doubt it."

Steve rolled his eyes, and Bucky flipped Stark off. Tony made some comment about the combined condescending power of two super soldiers, but Steve tuned him out. He looked over to Clint and Natasha, where they were standing on opposite ends of the car the three of them were behind, keeping watch for any stray agents who tried to sneak up on them.

He replayed the fight in his head, how the other Avengers had protected Bucky and fought for him with ferocity. A small smile spread across his face. In that moment, he realized that the Avengers had accepted Bucky as one of their own, and would fight like hell if anyone tried to hurt him. Bucky may not realize it, but it wasn't just him and Steve against the world anymore.

* * *

 

Clint didn't realize that he had never seen Bucky wear short sleeves until he _saw_ Bucky wear short sleeves. Sure, he had seen the arm before, but it was different to see it sticking out of a badass leather outfit, holding a Glock and strutting murderously toward the enemy (Clint had once described it as 'strutting murderously' to Bucky. Long story short, he won't do that again. Long story long, Clint's arrows were replaced with pink Cupid ones, his shampoo was replaced with mayonnaise, and all of his furniture was moved over half an inch for maximum toe stubbing potential).

When Bucky walked onto the communal floor wearing jeans and an Under Armour t-shirt, Clint did his best not to stare at the glinting metal. He knew Bucky would take it as judgement rather than the truth; that he just thought it looked really cool.

Bucky grabbed an apple and glared at the room with his best scary face, which still somehow managed to be scary even though Clint had seen him run full speed into a tree one time. His expression dared anyone to mention his arm better than any words could.

"Buck, settle a bet, which is better, Alien or Aliens?" Natasha called from the couch, where her and Tony were engaged in a heated movie debate.

Bucky looked surprised at the lack of people either degrading him and/or trying to attack him, and Clint was honestly offended that he expected either reaction. I mean, give them _a little_ credit. Well, maybe not Tony, but that's just the Asshole Act™. "I've never seen them."

Tony gasped dramatically. "You've seen The Princess Bride twelve times but you've never seen Sigourney Weaver kick some alien ass?"

Bucky shrugged. "I've only seen The Princess Bride eleven times," he corrected, because if Clint has learned one thing over the past three and a half years, it's that James Buchanan Barnes is a sarcastic little shit.

"Alright, next week's movie night is definitely Alien, it's time to give the Winter Mulder some sci-fi history lessons." The room was silent. "Mulder? Get it? The X-Files? Aliens? Alright, the movie night after the next one we are binge watching The X-Files."

Natasha ignored him, turning to Bucky instead. "Terminator or Terminator 2?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "He's never seen those either. I've been getting blank looks in response to the T-800 nickname every time I hang out with this cinematically inept geriatric."

"Terminator 2," Bucky answered. Tony gave him a disbelieving look. "Chill out, dickwad," he said to Tony in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression. Clint just about died laughing. Between the horrible Austrian accent and Tony's surprised and offended expression, Clint thought he would never catch his breath again.

Eventually, after miraculously not dying of oxygen deprivation, Clint's laughter died down. He watched Bucky joke with Nat and Tony, Steve and Sam (who Clint had dubbed Bucky's 'security blankets') nowhere in sight. He still sat with a sight-line of the door, but hell, _half_ of them had that habit. Other than that, he looked completely at ease.

Bucky trusted them enough to stop covering up his biggest insecurity, his metal arm, and Clint was honestly touched.

The Avengers had chosen Bucky, and Bucky had chosen them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first Avengers story, so I hope everyone's in character. Any comments or kudos are greatly appreciated(:
> 
> off the cob- corny  
> twit- fool or idiot  
> 'Зимний солдат'- Winter Soldier


End file.
